Postmodernists believe that truth is myth, and myth, truth. This equation has it roots in pop psychology. The same people also believe that emotions are a form. Brad Holland
leto nahromadilo par zvesti. najprv chcem upozornit na videa prednasok T.Gowersa, pekne rozprava napr. o prirodzenych dokazoch alebo shorovom algoritme. projekty the Tricki, Polymath (hromadne riesenie otvorenych problemov), Euclid – perspectives in logic a Euclid – lecture notes in logic kde najdete o.i. zdarma knihu hajeka a pudlaka o metamatematike aritmetiky), aka je skoda ked je mlady nadany vedec ako Alekhnovich vlastne mrtvy, Martinov clanok o postaveni Godelovych viet v matematike pre tych ktori im chcu hlbsie rozumiet. videa prednasok workshopu Barriers in Complexity, ktore sa o chvilu objavia niekde tu.
dalej som vymyslel skomoleniny P vs WC, expander razborov a zhodol sa na tom ze by bolo vtipne mat rebelantske tricko s nadpisom “wear rhetoric others will judge you by”, ale pre atmosferu leta bude lepsie najst nejaku dobru hudbu. bohuzial wordpress sam o sebe zda sa nepodporuje youtube playlisty, takze tu tych par tragickych songov, na ktore som narazil, proste nalinkujem.
“free and easy, gentle, gentle.. the wind through the trees makes you mental, for me” uplne letny, viac poeticky nez hudobny, osemminutovy song destroyer – bay of pigs. trocha blaznivejsie osemminutove “nieco” dan deacon – snookered. epicke potemkinovske videa k barokovemu roku arcade fire – intervention. agonicky prejav penningtona z paranthetical girls – stolen children. tiez silne zive vystupenia skusenych indie alter rockovych the strokes ci metric. a trocha vzdy aktualnej klasiky: delibes, prokofiev, debussy. to vsetko a k tomu mramorova ľalia zdarma v tomto playliste
na zaver stanovujem status dying a povinny kus poezie
The Metaphysicians of South Jersey
Stephen Dunn
Because in large cities the famous truths
already had been plumbed and debated,
the metaphysicians of South Jersey lowered
their gaze, just tried to be themselves.
They’d gather at coffee shops in Vineland
and deserted shacks deep in the Pine Barrens.
Nothing they came up with mattered
so they were free to be eclectic, and as odd
as getting to the heart of things demanded.
They walked undisguised on the boardwalk.
At the Hamilton Mall they blended
with the bargain-hunters and the feckless.
Almost everything amazed them,
the last hour of a county fair,
blueberry fields covered with mist.
They sought the approximate weight of sadness,
its measure and coloration. But they liked
a good ball game too, well pitched, lots of zeros
on the scoreboard. At night when they lay down,
exhausted and enthralled, their spouses knew
it was too soon to ask any hard questions.
Come breakfast, as always, the metaphysicians
would begin to list the many small things
they’d observed and thought, unable to stop talking
about this place and what a world it was.
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